Born To Die
by HouseOfGlass
Summary: Porcelain is an less-than-average girl from District 1 who's boyfriend is the marvelous Marvel. Will she be able to control her feelings post 74th Hunger Games, or will her emotions control her?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Throwing Spears and Stolen Kisses**

_Running, running, running. Always running and never stopping. Running towards, running away. Running with and running against. Running wild and running free. Running because I have to. Running because I want to. I was always running and never stopping. Even when I was still, something was running. My heart for him, my head for logic. I -_

"Porcelain!" A voice yells, and I drop my pen. But I recognize the soft yet playful voice and the head that emerges shortly from the low-hanging branches of the weeping willow tree. I shove the tiny book I was scribbling in into my bag at my side and slowly climb to my feet, careful not to knock my head against a particularly low and thick branch to my right. I grab Marvel's outstretched hand and allow him to pull me back to reality through the branches. He pulls me by my waist to his side as we make our way to my house. It is early afternoon, and the sun bright and hot.

"Do we have any plans for this fine and exceedingly hot afternoon?" I ask in a joking tone, as I already know what the answer is.

"Well, I was thinking we could go to the training center?" He phrases it like a question and I can't help but laugh.

"I would fake a groan, but you know very well I would come with you regardless if I wanted to or not."

He laughs as well, and together we step into the cool oasis that is my house. The cold air feels wonderful on my hot skin. I walk over to the fridge and grab some water bottles and some fruit then stuff it in my bag.

"Are your parents home?" Marvels asks.

I listen carefully and can barley make out music coming from the basement.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Will they mind if we go?"

"Not at all, why?"

He shrugged his shoulders and looked at the ground. I couldn't tell if he was trying not to laugh.

"Oh my goodness this is about the incident at dinner, isn't it?" I started laughing.

"They hate me I swear!"

I laugh again.

"They do not hate you! I promise." Marvel still did not look convinced. "Come on handsome let's go." I say grabbing his hand and heading for the front door.

"By the way, you have leaves in your hair." I turn back around.

"So do you." I laugh.

oOo

We had been at the training center for what seemed like forever, when it actually only been an hour and a half. It had started off as exciting, as always, but then got boring. One could only watch Marvel hit a bullseye with a spear only so many times. I was sitting in the bleachers as always doodling in my little book, and occasionally looking up to reassure him I was indeed 'watching.' I glanced up again, as I had been doing approximately every ten minutes, and found that now Marvel was jogging over to me. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and was now sitting beside me leaning back in his undershirt and shorts. I handed him a bottle of water.

"You're doing great! Technique? Spot on." I said, forming an OK symbol with my hand as I spoke.

"You don't know a thing about spear throwing do you." Marvel said, raising an eyebrow and adding a sly smile.

"Nope. But one thing I do know is that you are the best of the best." I leaned in a bit closer, and tilted my head slightly upwards to meet his gaze. He chuckled then closed the gap and kissed me. I savored everyone of our kisses; his lips always soft and the way he seemed to put passion into every one. This one was cut short however; we heard the door open and Marvel broke away. There was a look of concern on his face and it had me nervous.

"I'm worried." He said softly, intertwining his hand with mine then resting it on my thigh.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because the reaping is soon, and let's face it. You are hopeless."

I couldn't help but laugh at this blatantly true statement.

"No, Porcelain. I'm being serious." I could see the genuine concern in his eyes and I ceased my laughing.

"What if you get reaped?"

"Well then I am screwed." I declared.

"What would you do? Like what do you consider would be your strengths in the games?"

I hated conversations like this. I never trained. I couldn't count the number of times I went to the center to train for myself and not just to watch Marvel on one hand. Because I have never gone. Never. The only thing that could count would be running. I run all the time. But not for the games. For fun.

"I can run. And I know the names of some plants."

He rolled his eyes at my mentioning of plants.

"Like what?" He deadpanned.

"Well, the tree in my back yard is a weeping willow."

"Anything else?"

"I write a lot. So maybe I could write a beautiful poem and it would be so beautiful that everyone dies. But me." I said it with such conviction it was ridiculous.

It was silent for a moment and then we both started laughing. When our laughter died out, I turned to look at him and sighed.

"If it will make you feel better I will let you teach me some fighting skills."

"Really?" He sounded genuinely shocked and excited.

"Really."

"Well then come on!" He grabbed my hand and led me down the bleachers.

"Let's start with my personal favorite." He gestured to a plethora of laid out spears and a collection of dummies behind it. I reached for one, then hesitated.

"Throw one."

"You can't be serious."

"Hey this was your idea." Marvel was right. I got my self into this mess.

I picked up a spear and aimed it at the heart of the closest dummy. I steadied my hand and threw it as hard as I could. I missed by twelve feet. To the left.

"Congratulations. You probably killed a tree." He laughed, and strolled over to me.

"I think you need some help."

I nodded, and picked up another spear. Marvel stepped up behind me and put his hand on my waist.

"Angle yourself a little to the side." He gently guided me to the side.

"Good." I felt him pressed against me, his lips at my ear, one hand on my waist, the other at the arm I held the spear in.

"Lift your arm. And pull it a bit back, but not to much." His hand was now wrapped around my hand that held the spear.

"Where do you want to aim?" He said softly, his breath warm on my ear.

"For the heart." I said, surprised at how loud my own voice sounded.

"Okay. Now aim, a bit upwards from where you want it to land." He tilted my hand, and in turn the spear, up a tad bit.

"Are you ready?" I nodded, hoping he could feel my concentration.

"Now, throw, making sure you follow through." And so I did. I watched as the slim spear sailed through the air, and made contact with the dummy's heart.

"That was great!" He exclaimed, giving me a big hug from behind.

"Only because I barely did anything!"

"Nah, that one was all you." He said with a wink. Marvel kissed my cheek and grabbed another spear, and held it out to me like a precious gift.

"Let's go again, shall we?"

I took the spear from him again and settled back in to his strong arms, where for the next hour it was nothing but throwing spears and stolen kisses.

***Hey yosives! This is my first Hunger Games fic. Yay for expanding my horizons! I am currently trying to set character relationships in a way that makes them seem like you have know them forever. (Hope I am succeeding by the way.) Rated T, but if it is deemed to inapropro I shall change ir. Reviews = Love! And since I am posting this at midnight my time, good morning!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The two of us had spent yet another day at the training center. It had been practically full, as the day after tomorrow was the reaping. And what had been the most shocking part of the day was _that I actually did something_. I tried my hand at a bow and arrow, which I proved to be even worse at than I was at throwing spears on my own. Throwing knives went a little better, but still pretty horrific. I couldn't even pick up an axe. And I had to admit that I was one of those individuals who never trained because he or she believed that they would never be reaped. Which in my case could very well be true, as I heard that a girl in my class, Emerald, had her name in there thirty times. Mine was in there only five. But still, anything could happen.

Marvel and I walked hand in hand holding smoothies as we headed away from the training center and down the street on our way to the tree in my backyard. It was hot again today, but definitely not as bad as yesterday. I turned to look at Marvel and squinted against the bright sun.

"Who do you want going in to the Games?" I asked.

"Definitely not you." He said and kissed my cheek. "Do you mean like so they can win, or so they can die?"

"Both."

"Hmm. I think that if Flint went in he could definitely win it. And that kid down your street, what's his name?"

"Obsidian?"

"Yeah. I do not like him one bit."

I laughed. "Why? He's a nice kid."

"Sure. But I always catch him looking at you."

"He does not."

"He does too. And since you are mine, I don't appreciate that." He said as he pulled me closer. "What about you?"

"I think that girl Diamond could win it. Or Glimmer. I would totally want Ribbon to go in. She has been driving me crazy with her incessant whining, and she wouldn't stand a chance."

"She would literally look like a ribbon by the end of the Games. That is if she made it past the blood bath."

The two of us laughed at his comment, it was true. Ribbon had been in my classes for years, and would whine about anything and everything there was to complain about. She was extremely well disliked by the majority of people I knew. Not to mention slow and out of shape.

"Are you still staying over tomorrow?" Marvel asked.

"Yeah. My parents are leaving in the morning."

"You excited?"

"For what?" I turned to look at him against the sun again.

"For you know slumber party stuff. We can watch movies and do nails and gossip!" Marvel said in a mocking voice while I laughed.

"Totally remind me to bring my nail polish." I said sarcastically.

His laugh joined mine as we sauntered down the street.


End file.
